


Holding On To Driftwood

by itsmadeofgold



Series: Rockstar!AU [2]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Kradam, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:55:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmadeofgold/pseuds/itsmadeofgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This takes place about a year and a half after the end of Sing Without A Song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding On To Driftwood

Kris had been trying really hard to hold on to the excited, ready-for-adventure feeling he’d had when he’d first started on this tour, but it was getting more and more difficult.

He reminded himself daily that there’d been a time not long ago when the idea that he might get paid to make music would’ve seemed laughable, and now here he was with a record deal, an EP to sell, t-shirts with his name on them and a nationwide tour underway. With a _band._

He should be grateful.

And he was, truly. He was thrilled with his life, and when he stood back and looked at the big picture - his past behind him, the explosion along the way when Adam had come to him, and then the future laid out before them - he felt like his head was spinning. It was more than he would’ve even thought to ask for. There wasn’t much room for complaints.

He knew all of that. Still, though, some nights when he had to climb into the musty-smelling bus for an overnight drive to do a show at yet another half-full bar, and he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in a week and was so sick of fast food he’d rather starve than choke down one more fry, it was easy to forget that he was living his dream.

That was kind of the biggest problem, though, really; he _was_ living his dream, and the biggest part was Adam. And that part was missing right now. There was no way to describe the feeling of knowing that Adam was his, that as fierce as his love was, it was reciprocated; it was more than winning the lottery, more than cheating death. It felt like it was impossible. Like it was magic that it had happened at all; the fact that it was real didn’t change the fact that it shouldn’t be, in any rational world.

And Kris _missed_ him. It was just that simple. The all-night drives and the bad food and the questionable smell and the lackluster crowds would be infinitely easier to bear if Kris were getting a better Adam fix than nightly phone calls. When their schedules and time zone situation even allowed for that much.

“You sound stressed out,” Adam said one night. Kris was pacing outside the bus at a truckstop, back and forth along the shadowed side. It felt like privacy, almost.

“I’m fine,” Kris said. “Looking forward to having a hotel night, though. I need a couple hours away from these guys, I think.”

“When do you get one?”

“In two days. Kansas City.”

“Where are you now again?”

Kris smiled. They had loaded their tour schedules into both phone calendars before they’d gone on the road - Adam had started a few weeks before Kris - but still Adam always seemed at a total loss for where they were. _Both_ of them - Kris thought he asked where _he_ was just as often.

“Austin.”

“Right.”

“And you’re in St. Louis.”

“Yeah. I did a photo op at the arch thingie today, so I knew that.”

“Good for you,” Kris said, smirking.

“Miss you,” Adam said with a sigh.

Kris stopped his pacing, kicking at loose asphalt in the parking lot with the toe of his sneaker. “I miss you too,” he said.

“Are you sure you’re OK?”

“Yeah.”

“Show OK tonight?”

“The usual,” Kris said. “Pretty good. I think the band’s getting better, actually, and the crowd was small but they seemed into it. So yeah, not bad.”

“Good.”

“You?”

“Um, same,” Adam said, then stopped. Kris knew he felt uncomfortable talking about his shows with him now, that since Kris was on such a modest tour he felt like he would be bragging to talk about this or that corporate-named amphitheater and which celebrities made their way backstage there. It didn’t bother Kris at all, of course - he’d never known Adam any other way. It didn’t feel like a competition to him. Adam was doing what he was born to do and now so was Kris - nothing but good all around, as far as Kris could tell.

Plus it’s not like if Kris had his way he’d be playing those same enormous venues with pyro blasting in the background and five costume changes a night. It wasn’t his style. They were so different, Kris felt like they should be able to each do what they did - in their own way - without having to compare and contrast.

But then again, Kris knew that if he were the one travelling first class, crisscrossing the country in style while _Adam_ were chugging around in a refurbished school bus he’d probably feel more than a little shy talking about it, too.

Kris couldn’t think of anything else to say. He leaned against the bus, his head bowed, and tried to make out Adam’s breaths. He knew it was his turn to talk, but he was out of ideas. He didn’t feel like talking on the phone, he just wanted Adam to _be_ there.

“Still there?” Adam said.

“Yeah,” Kris said. “Sorry. Just wishing you were here.”

“Me too,” Adam said. “I really, _really_ wish you were here, actually.”

“Yeah?” Kris heard that edge to Adam’s voice and it felt like a knot twisting in his belly. He swallowed.

“Yeah,” Adam said, and his voice dropped low.

“We’re just stopped at a truckstop,” Kris said in a small voice, apology in every word. “Everybody’s inside grabbing some food... we’ll be going again in a few minutes, though.”

“Oh,” Adam said. “Everybody on the bus. And awake.”

“Yeah,” Kris said. He sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK. I guess I can take care of this on my own.” Kris could hear him smiling, and that somehow made it worse.

“Love you.”

“I love you. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Sleep well.”

As Kris hung up the phone, he walked around to climb back onto the bus, crawling into his bunk and drawing the curtain before the other guys got back from their break. He was exhausted and moody, and thought the sooner he was unconscious the better.

~

Fucking tabloids.

Bad enough that they had to exist at all, but even _worse_ that the entire world seemed to think Kris needed to know everything they had to say about him. Or, more often, about Adam.

On this particular morning he’d opened his laptop to find five emails and innumerable tweets pointing him toward a post on TMZ about some guy who claimed to have hooked up with Adam in Providence. Kris never would’ve believed it, even if he _didn’t_ specifically remember that that had been the one night of the tour so far when they’d both been in hotel rooms and they’d spent the entire night on the phone. They had watched two movies and taken a bath together, among other things.

Still. It didn’t feel good to wake up to find the entire world speculating on whether your boyfriend is cheating on you. He found the tweets offering him support and commiseration almost worse than the ones attacking Adam as a two-timing asshole.

Kris picked up his phone.

“I didn’t do it,” Adam said by way of greeting.

“I know you didn’t, you ass,” Kris said, rolling his eyes. “I mean, you really didn’t, right?”

“Kris!” Adam said, exasperated. “Of course I didn’t. Jesus Christ.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s kind of a brewing crisis right now, could you please make me believe you believe me and cut the jokes?”

“Of course I believe you. Who’s the guy?”

“I don’t even know, I guess he was backstage that night,” Adam said. “A friend of a friend of somebody on the crew. I don’t think I even talked to him, or if I did I don’t remember.”

“Adam,” Kris said, and his voice sounded very serious.

“Kris, I swear to God,” Adam said. “If you start doubting me now I’m going to freak out. What did I tell you?”

“I know.”

“I _told_ you this would happen. It won’t be the last time, either, OK? There’s always going to be somebody trying to make money however they can. Don’t trust people who sell their souls to tabloids. Trust _me._ ”

“OK.”

“Or we’ve got nothing. You understand me?”

“Yes.”

Adam huffed. “Seriously, I need to know you’re with me.”

“You know I am,” Kris said. “Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like... like I wasn’t. This shit is stressful.”

“I know it is,” Adam said, lowering his voice. “I’m sorry, too.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing, yet,” Adam sighed. “We’re letting it go for now. If it shows up anywhere else I’ll put out a don’t-believe-the-bullshit statement. We’ll see where it goes after that.”

“OK,” Kris said. He closed his laptop, then leaned forward to rest his forehead on it. He felt tired, though he’d just woken up.

“I would never,” Adam said after a moment, quiet.

“I know,” Kris said.

~

When Kris got into his hotel room, he dropped his bag and sighed. He looked at the king size bed in the middle of the room like a starving man would a buffet, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He snapped a picture of the bed and sent it to Adam.

 _All this wasted space,_ he wrote.

Adam answered a few minutes later: _U can stretch out! Jealous. On the bus tonight._

Kris replied, _I’ll probably end up leaving room for u tho._ And then a moment later, _sorry about the bus._

His phone was quiet for a while then, and Kris went about the business of freshening up and making use of the plumbing and privacy. He enjoyed his shower, but a glance in the mirror told him he still looked exhausted. He felt it, too - like his bones were heavy. He was back in the bedroom staring at the bed again, towel around his waist, unsure whether he should get dressed and go out or just crawl into bed and luxuriate in it when his phone rang on the bedside table.

“Hey,” he said, answering it as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“You in bed yet?” Adam said. Kris smiled.

“Thinking about it. Where are you?”

“On the road. Some highway somewhere.”

“Good show?”

“Yeah. I had a good time. Tired now, though. Glad to have tomorrow off.”

“Good,” Kris said, laying back on the bed, letting the towel fall to the floor as he worked his way under the covers.

“Rustle rustle rustle,” Adam said, laughing quietly. “Giving in?”

“I couldn’t resist, I admit,” Kris said, smiling. They were quiet for a moment then, and Kris felt his face relax as his smile fell away. “Sometimes I feel like I’m just out of things to say,” he said finally. “Is that bad?”

“No,” Adam said.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I feel bad about it sometimes. Since I never get to see you you’d think I’d have a million things to talk about, but I just can’t think of anything.”

“It’s OK. If we were together, we wouldn’t be talking all the time. And there’s only so much to say about touring, I get that. It’s nice just to have you on the phone, though.”

“Yeah,” Kris said. “Nice. But not enough.”

“I know,” Adam said.

“It’s harder than I thought,” Kris said, closing his eyes. “I expected to miss you, but I’m starting to feel pretty lame about how much. It’s pathetic.”

Adam laughed. “I know what you mean,” he said. “It sucks. And I just thought it would be nice not to have to worry about hooking up on tour, you know.” Kris did know; Adam had told him this before their tours had started. He had never been in a serious relationship while on the road before, never _done the long-distance thing._ He said he’d always either been single or in relationships casual enough to put on hold or end completely for simplicity’s sake when it was time to head out. That had made Kris’s insides clench, but Adam had gone on to say there was no question of that this time, that _obviously_ being apart wouldn’t change anything about their relationship.

“You missing it?” Kris said, trying to stop his mouth from turning down, like Adam would be able to hear it. _Well, he probably would,_ he thought.

“Sex?” Adam said. “Yes. But with you. Not hooking up.”

“OK.”

“It _is_ nice to know I still have you,” Adam said. “I mean, it’s better, I think. Knowing somebody loves me, even if I’m by myself and can’t remember where I am. At least I can call you and you’ll remind me. I like it a lot better this way.” He paused. “Except for the sex part. Which is fucking miserable.”

“Yeah,” Kris said. “We should’ve planned this better.”

“I thought being on tour at the same time _was_ the plan. That makes for less time apart in the long run, right? Wasn’t that the wisdom?”

“We should’ve worked out more time when we’d cross paths. Or like, breaks where we could visit each other, or something.”

“We suck,” Adam said.

“Which is why now we can’t,” Kris said, and laughed. “Wish I could.”

Adam laughed with him, then ended with a groan. “It’s sad how little it takes these days,” he said. “Tease.”

“Who’s teasing?” Kris said. “I would totally blow you right this minute if you were here. It’s not my fault you aren’t around to take me up on it.”

“Stop that.”

“Lucky for you - and thanks to you, too, by the way - I’m also a phone slut, and have walls and a door tonight. Want me to tell you all about what I’d do if you were here?” He squirmed in the sheets, hand moving lower. This was what hotel nights were all about, and though he knew it was really sad in some ways, he could also think of a lot of things that would be sadder to look forward to than listening to Adam come, even if it was over the phone.

“I’d love that,” Adam said, his voice almost a whisper. “But everybody’s still awake, they’re all watching a movie. Right outside my bed.”

“Can you be quiet?” Kris said. “I can do all the talking.”

“I love you,” Adam said.

“And I love you,” Kris said, smirking. He was excited. No matter how much time passed or how comfortable they got together, having Adam at his mercy never got old. Knowing he could reduce him to moans and cries, that nobody but him was even allowed to try, made him feel giddy and high. And the months on tour had helped him hone his phone sex skills and get comfortable in it; he was coming to think of it as an art, a sex act in itself. It was all they had, so they tried to make it good. “You know what else I love?” Kris continued, dropping his voice, letting it get rough.

“Hmmm?” Just a low noise. Kris could hear rustling, Adam settling further into his bed. He could imagine him so clearly, and he licked his lips at the thought.

“I love the noise you make when I suck you,” he said, and heard Adam pull in his breath. “Just that first second, when I run my tongue all the way up and then wrap my lips around your cock, and you make this growly sound -”

Adam moaned, if a whisper could be a moan. It only hinted at the noises he’d be making if he weren’t holding back.

“That’s not it,” Kris said, smug, stroking himself. “But I like that one, too. I also like -”

And then Kris heard a voice on the phone out of nowhere. Not Adam.

“-want to... oh, _shit!_ Sorry, sorry. Oh fuck, sorry.”

Somewhere in there Adam’s voice joined in, cursing incoherently. And throughout, Kris heard static and whooshing air, and he could almost see Adam scrambling, the phone in his hand, trying to cover up as he flailed his arms at the intruder.

“Jesus _Christ!_ ” Adam yelled, and Kris sighed.

“So much for that,” he said, resigned.

“Ugh,” Adam said. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s OK,” Kris said. “I’m sorry too. And tired. So I guess that’s OK.”

“Yeah, alright. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

As they said their I-love-you’s and goodbyes, Kris was already getting sleepy. He didn’t even bother masturbating, simply putting the phone on the bedside table and rolling over to go to sleep. It hardly seemed worth the effort; the moment was gone.

~

Kris was daydreaming, thinking regretfully of the enormous bed he was leaving behind and the wonderful night’s rest he’d gotten on it, already dreading the bumpy, interrupted sleep he’d be getting tonight, as he walked out of the hotel and toward the bus. He didn’t see the reporter until she was right in front of him, blocking his way.

“Kris Allen?” she said. Kris stopped in his tracks, his eyes going wide. He would’ve assumed she was a fan, except she had a little recorder pointed at him. He wasn’t entirely sure what he should do.

“Um, yes?” he said, knowing even as he did that it might be the wrong thing. Should he have ignored her? Walked around or something?

“Hi,” the woman said, smiling, seeming to flash a million teeth. “Tell me. what do you think of this guy in Rhode Island? Cody Smithson? Saying he um. Had an encounter with Adam? You guys still dating?”

Kris’s mouth fell open. He had no idea what to do. On one hand, _fuck her,_ seriously. He wanted to just say yes, thank you, we are still dating. Tell her the guy-in-Rhode-Island story is bullshit, and they are past it. But something was telling him that wasn’t what he was supposed to do, PR-wise. Should he just say “no comment” and keep walking? Should he tell her he didn’t want to talk about his - or Adam’s - personal life?

But if he didn’t say something about Adam’s innocence, or the fact that he completely believed in him, would that be giving legitimacy to the rumor? Shouldn’t he deny it?

Oh God, he wished Adam were there. He always seemed to know what to do about shit like this. Kris had no idea, but he definitely knew there was a _wrong_ answer, and it could make Adam’s life very difficult.

“Um,” he finally said. “Don’t believe everything you read. We’re fine, thanks.” He took a deep breath then, hoped he looked strong, and walked an arc around the woman, hurrying onto the bus.

~

“Are you sure?” Kris said, covering his face with one hand as he lay on his back in his bunk.

“Yes,” Adam said. “It was fine. Perfect. I couldn’t have done any better. Kept it light, made your point quickly, no drama, then got the fuck out of there. _Perfect._ ”

“OK.”

“And,” Adam continued. “You didn’t punch her, which is extra points.”

“I kind of wanted to punch her, honestly,” Kris said, letting his hand fall to his side again, relaxing.

“She would’ve had it coming,” Adam said. “Anyway, thanks for standing up for me.”

“Of course.”

“Oh hey, guess what?”

“I read a review of your show in Kansas City online.”

“Oh no,” Kris said, grimacing. “I don’t read that stuff.”

“You should,” Adam said, and Kris could hear the grin on his face. “Because this one called you a _bourgeoning star_ and said that you had _true charisma and undeniable talent._ And it didn’t even _mention_ me. What do you think of that?”

A big silly smile crept across Kris’s face. “I dig it,” he said.

“Thought you might,” Adam said, and Kris could hear pride in his voice. He sounded smug. It made Kris feel like giggling.

~

Two days went by when they didn’t get to talk at all. Adam was in New York City, his schedule full of shows and press and events. Places to be seen, photos to be taken.

Kris watched the pictures roll in online and sighed, wishing he was there with him, his fingers itching for the feeling of Adam’s skin sliding under a suit as he ogled him in his glamor.

He sent a text: _Looking hot!_

Adam replied: _Thanks. Tired tho._

Kris had some news he thought would cheer Adam up, and smiled as he typed it out.

 _You = Las Vegas 2m night. Me = LA. Got an idea. Gonna be fun._

Kris would be spending the night in Los Angeles after playing a show in town, taking a flight from there to San Diego late the next evening. Adam was flying into Las Vegas tomorrow for a show there the next day. Kris would spend the night at home, and Adam would be in a hotel. And they would both have privacy.

Kris wanted to make it good.

 _I’m intrigued,_ Adam answered, and Kris smirked.

~

“Skype,” Kris said, settling into his bed - their bed - with his laptop. “Video calling. We can see each other while we talk.”

“I know what Skype is,” Adam said, exasperated. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Kris said. “It’s not recording. It’s not like we’re making a sex tape or something, it’s just like a phone call. But with visual.”

“I think it’s risky to get sexy with a camera, I’m just saying,” Adam said.

“Come on,” Kris said, trying not to whine. “It’s totally safe, I promise. I think we should make the most of this night, _I’m_ just saying. Please? Try it?”

Adam sighed. “Only because it means I’ll get to see your ass. What do I have to do?”

“Thank you.” Kris grinned. “Just download it and install it, it’s all pretty easy. Then message me, I’m _AdamsGuitarGuy._ ”

“You are not.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh my God, so adorable. OK, so, downloading. So how is it being home?”

“Awesome,” Kris said. “And also shitty, because you’re not here. As if king size beds in hotel rooms weren’t bad enough, having to sleep in our bed alone is... ugh. The worst. But I do love our mattress, I can’t lie.”

Adam laughed. “OK, I’m setting up my profile,” he said after a moment. “What should my screen name be?”

“ _KrisIsHot?_ ”

“Can’t argue with that,” Adam said, chuckling as he typed it in. “And it’s available, of course. Fate.”

“Oh, there you are,” Kris said, finding Adam’s screenname and sending a message. He clicked _video call_ and just a moment later, there was Adam. Kris grinned. “Hi,” he said.

“Hey,” Adam said, grinning back. He looked embarrassed.

“So nice to see you,” Kris said, taking in Adam’s face, completely without makeup except for a little leftover black eyeliner. He loved this looked on him, but Adam thought it wasn’t his _best._ “You look gorgeous.”

“Shut up,” Adam said. “You do.”

“You shut up,” Kris said, laughing. “Is this awkward?”

“No,” Adam said. “I don’t think so. Would it be awkward if I asked you to take your shirt off, though?”

“Not at all,” Kris said, immediately bringing his hands up to open his buttons. Moments later he let it fall back over his shoulders. “Undershirt too?” he said.

“Don’t ask silly questions,” Adam said, waving a finger. Kris smirked, pulling the white tank top over his head and tossing it on the floor.

“Much better,” Adam said. “OK, maybe I can get on board with this Skype thing.”

“See?” Kris said. “I told you. Now I think you’d better take your shirt off. It’s only fair.” He watched as Adam cocked an eyebrow, doing that fucking Elvis thing with his lip that should be silly but somehow on Adam was crazy hot to the point that Kris felt like writing a song in praise of Skype. Who needed the phone, like, ever, when they could do this?

And then Adam reached down, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it up, revealing a wide swath of belly. In the moment when the movement should’ve been completed, when the shirt should’ve come up and over Adam’s head, Kris was locked in anticipation and didn’t immediately realize that the video had stopped. He thought at first that he was just experiencing a drawn-out moment.

“Hello?” he finally said.

“Kris?”

He could hear Adam, but the video remained frozen. Fuck.

“It’s frozen up,” Kris said.

“I can still see you,” Adam said. And then, a second later, “oh wait, no. It’s spazzing here too.”

“Do you think it’s my connection? Or yours? I don’t know anything about this shit.”

“Me neither,” Adam said, grumbling. “Great idea, this Skype thing.”

“Maybe if we reboot.”

“Seriously?”

“No, forget it,” Kris said, scooting out from under his laptop and standing. He was restless. Frustrated.

“We can still have phone sex,” Adam said, trying to sound upbeat. Kris’s head drooped. This was ridiculous. He turned and looked at the alarm clock by his bed. It was just after midnight.

“Where are you staying?” he said.

Adam was quiet for a moment before answering “The MGM Grand.”

“Room number?”

“Kris?”

“What room?”

“1412.”

“Stay there,” Kris said. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Adam said, and then Kris hung up, throwing the phone onto the bed as he reached down to find his shirt.

~

The drive went relatively quickly, Kris thought. He didn’t know why they didn’t plan this meetup to begin with. So, OK, he did have to drive across the desert in the middle of the night, but it’s not like it wasn’t _doable._

And it would be worth it, Kris knew. Back when they first made their schedules they hadn’t realized how badly they’d need this. Rolling into Vegas at four in the morning seemed completely sane when weighed against the reward he was after.

It had been nice to have Adam’s car collection at his disposal for an occasion like this. He’d decided to go with the Mustang; it was just very _Adam_ to him, and fast without being too ostentatious. He didn’t want to get pulled over.

He ditched it at the valet station when he arrived at the hotel, barely conscious of his exchange with the sleepy valet in his haste to get upstairs and bang on Adam’s door. It was like he could feel the time ticking by, their tiny window of opportunity closing inch by inch as it did.

Finally he was running, and it felt like the hallways never ended. Hallways and then an elevator and then more hallways and Kris began to feel like a hapless character in a romantic comedy as he followed signs and scanned numbers, feeling like he was going in circles as he searched for Adam’s room.

There it was, though, finally. Kris actually gasped out loud when he saw the number and realized he’d found it, that this was it.

He didn’t hesitate to start pounding on the door, though, stopping just short of yelling Adam’s name.

Not that he would’ve had a chance to get much more than the first syllable out, as Adam was swinging the door open and dodging Kris’s fist as it came down between the second knock and the third. The hand fell on Adam’s shoulder as a fist then flattened, gripping it as Kris took in the shock of seeing Adam, of feeling him solid under his fingers.

Adam looked exhausted, his eyes dark as he smiled, a strange mix of impatient want and crushing affection. He reached out, putting a hand on each of Kris’s hips and pulling him into the room, kicking the door shut behind him and immediately bringing him in close, clutching him to his chest.

Kris breathed in, taking in the familiar spicy Adam-smell with a pang of mixed nostalgia and relief, his mind now so used to dreaming that it was taking its time recognizing _this_ as reality. But Adam’s chest felt so good, his arms around him so solid, that it was not long before he had to believe, and he let out a happy little noise before he could stop himself.

“Mmm,” Adam hummed in response. “Good to see you, too.”

Kris turned his head, nuzzling into Adam’s chest, nosing the unbuttoned top of his shirt open. “Missed you,” he said, breathing it into Adam’s skin. And then he breathed in again and there was more of that smell, that sensory Adam-alarm and he could feel every bit of fatigue drain out of his body as it tensed in response. He moved into Adam harder, both hands digging into his back, needy.

Adam spun them around, groaning deep in his throat as Kris mouthed at it. He walked toward the bed, directing Kris backward until it hit the back of his knees and he fell back, Adam immediately on him, everywhere around him, his face buried in Kris’s neck. Kris was clawing at Adam’s back, finally pulling his t-shirt up and over, Adam breaking his attention on Kris’s throat only long enough to pull it free and then diving back in. Kris was grinding up, desperate, almost bewildered at how quickly he had reached this point. Hadn’t he just gotten here? He felt like it was just minutes ago that he’d been barreling down the freeway in Adam’s car.

Adam worked the buttons of Kris’s shirt open with one hand, then the button and zipper on his jeans. He rolled off to the side long enough for Kris to shimmy out of both and then was on him again, kicking his own pants off as he lay wet kisses and bites across Kris’s chest.

“What do you want?” Adam finally said when both were naked, moving against each other with jerky urgency.

“You know very fucking well,” Kris said, panting.

“Tell me,” Adam said, licking an earlobe.

Kris shivered. “I want you to fuck me,” he said. Barely a whisper, but Adam’s ear was right there.

“Mmm,” he said. “I love it.”

Kris shifted up on the bed, opening his legs, and then there was Adam’s hand, spreading him. And Kris wasn’t sure where or when he’d grabbed the supplies but there he was, working just one finger in at first and Kris squirmed onto him, needy for more. He clenched and rolled down hard. Oh fuck, he loved this. Had missed it so much. This ritual, this game. He needed this.

Two fingers and Kris was groaning, his chest red and his head thrown back. And then not long after, not long at all, three fingers and Kris was burning. He couldn’t stop moving his hips, though, grinding down harder and harder, noises starting in his chest and flowing out of his mouth. There were words, sometimes, that would’ve embarrassed Kris if he knew he were saying them.

And then Adam moved up over Kris to fuck him, finally, and just as he was positioning himself and Kris was panting, breathing shallow with anticipation, Adam said something about _worth the drive_ , and Kris thought maybe he was supposed to answer but couldn’t. Even if he could it probably would’ve been something along the lines of _shut up and fuck me,_ which he instead communicated with an insistent thrust of his hips.

This was seriously no time to try to be witty.

Adam stopped talking then, pushing in. So slow, Kris thought he was doing it on purpose, torturing him. He wanted to chant _more_ or _faster_ but could only breathe, fast and hot, as Adam filled him. And when Adam was finally flush with his hips Kris drew in a long breath, letting it out slowly just as Adam was pulling back again.

Kris said “yeah,” disjointed, breaking the quiet in the moment before Adam moved into him again, and then his words were gone. He groaned in time with the snapping of Adam’s hips, Adam’s stuttered breathing filling in the gaps.

Kris tensed his body, pushing against Adam with all he had, his back bowing as he ground against him. This was what he was missing and this was what would make everything all better; he needed more of _this_. He had to be sure never to be away from it for so long again because he could feel that joy, familiar and warm, starting in his chest and branching out - that _this is mine, always,_ feeling - that he knew now he just couldn’t be without.

And then he was coming, clenching down hard on Adam as he shook, crying out. Adam moved over him, closer, getting down on his elbows and holding on to Kris’s shoulders as he continued moving into him, holding him as he fucked him through his orgasm. Kris gasped, and then shook again when he felt Adam tense against him, his fingers digging into his shoulders with bruising force.

And then he had just that one word back again, and he was saying it again and again, “yeah, yeah, yeah,” as he kept moving, still shaking slightly as he ground into Adam until he collapsed, breathing heavy as he lay on Kris’s chest.

Long moments passed and Kris listened to Adam’s breathing as it slowed and deepened. He was worried that he might fall asleep, not wanting to waste any of their little time together, but didn’t think the time had come to poke him just yet.

Finally Adam made an indistinct growling noise and rolled over and off of Kris, snuggling up to his side.

“You’re not going to sleep, are you?” Kris said, turning to face him.

“No,” Adam said, eyes closed. “Just resting for a second.”

“OK,” Kris said. “Because I drove all night to get here, so you’d better make it worth my while.”

Adam bared his teeth, snapping. “Alright, alright,” he said. “Promise I will.”

Kris scooted forward, burrowing into Adam’s chest. Adam put his arms around him, squeezing.

“Thanks for making the drive,” he said. “Seriously. I needed this.”

“Me too,” Kris said. “We really need to talk about our schedules.”

“Yeah,” Adam said.

“I’m thinking two weeks. Whatever we have to do, we don’t go longer than two weeks, OK?”

“OK,” Adam said. “Yes, perfect. Oh god, that sounds awesome.”

“Yeah it does,” Kris said, and tilted his head up to find Adam’s mouth. He wouldn’t let it go, teasing it open with his tongue and biting gently at the lower lip, and then Adam was pushing back, helpless, sleep forgotten. The sun was rising on the other side of the room-darkening shade as they moved against each other with new energy, making the most of these few precious hours that belonged to them and no one else.


End file.
